pi^T'ii 







LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

Chap. Copyright No.. 

SheltiiJLS..$ 0/ (a 

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



Old Hollyhocks 

And Other 
Poems and Recitations 



By 

Horace G. Williamson 





WTT^ 



Cincinnati, O.: 

GEORGE C. SHAW 

i 900 



1 






library. of CowgrQ*^ 
Office of t> 

DEO 2 3 

Register of Copyrights 



%> 



\\ 



o° 



52001 



Copyright by 
Horace G. Williamson 



l8 99 SECOND uo^A 



Dedicated to My ^ 
Mother and Father 



Preface 

<£ The poems now offered to the public, were written 
during a period of two years, and before my nine- 
teenth birthday* I have some fears as to the reception 
with which they will be met, and would say here 
that they are put forth, not as an example of literary 
workmanship, or of unusual inspiration, but are sim- 
ply the first fruit of a deep love for the poetry of life, 
and should be read accordingly* & £ <£ <£ ^8 
<£ The reader can best judge for himself if the poems 
be good or bad, and it is to be hoped that all who 
feel with the author, will appreciate the effort, not as 
a plea for the finer feelings of their nature — for he feels 
confident that his aim is high enough to call forth these 
feelings unsolicited — but as a little bundle of thoughts, 
offered in friendship's name to the poetry-loving 
public* I leave you with the book, trusting to it to 
prove a nobler champion of my cause* <£ %£ <£ 
HORACE G* WILLIAMSON 



Contents 

PAGE. 

old hollyhocks, - - - - - ii 

"Gertrude," ------ 13 

When Sweethearts Say Good-bye, - - 15 

" Regardin' Education," 18 

My Angel Sister, ----- 22 

Contentment, ------ 25 

Down by the Meadow Brook, - - - 26 

Expressions, ------ 29 

A Little Piece of Ribbon, - - - 32 

The Goat McKroger Bought, 38 

Childhood's Tenderness, - 42 

"A Girl Whom I Once Knew," 45 

When dis Coon's a-eeelin' Good, - - 48 

"Back with an Old-Time Sweetheart," 50 

The Song She Sang, ----- 52 

The Orchard, - 55 



Old Hollyhocks 

"POLKS kin laugh and folks kin talk 

About the old-time Hollyhock 
A bein' nothing but a weed 
That growed up from some shapeless seed, 
Which must have been against the laws 
Of Nature's fundamental cause ; 
But let me tell you now I jes 
Love its sweet old-fashionedness, 
And though it may n't have the bloom 
Which gives out such a fragrant fume, 
And common, too — well, that may be — 
But, nevertheless, I like to see 
Them jes wherever there 's a block 
Of moistened soil to feed the stock ; 
In fact, I actually declare, 
I like to see them everywhere. 

Fur sometimes when I 'm sort o' blue, 
And kind o' get to thinkin', too, 
What Heaven is, and just how nice 
It must be there in Paradise, 

ii 



Old Hollyhocks 



My Pagination gets so free 
That actually I really see 
Right beside the golden gate, 
Where everybody stops to wait, 
A row of those tall leafy stalks 
Strung full of blooming hollyhocks, 
Just as if they somehow went 
To send a slight encouragement 
Among the crowd who waited for 
The opening of this brazen door. 

And when the time comes round for me 

To step into eternity, 

Only leaving behind a mound 

Over my grave of fruitful ground, 

I trust that, by some means unknown, 

A wayward seed will just be blown 

To fall upon my grassy bed 

Where in silence sleeps the dead, 

And it will grow and bloom to be 

A thing of God's own purity, 

That he who passes by might know 

The heart of him who lies below 

Was bound, as with some sacred locks, 

To love the dear old hollyhocks. 



12 



ii 



Gertrude" 



SAT with Gertrude in the park, 
One summer's afternoon, 
Where to our ear, from an orchestra near, 

Came strains of a sweet old tune ; 
The sky was cloudless overhead, 

Soft breezes filled the air, 
While sunbeams through the boughs above 

Shone 'round her golden hair. 
As on a rustic bench reclined, 

I watched her smiling face — 
A masterpiece of Nature that 

No artist's brush could trace— 
The tints of health on either cheek, 

And in those fair blue eyes, 
I saw two worlds of pleasure there — 

A glimpse of Paradise. 

That voice of hers I '11 ne'er forget, 
Though time may turn me gray, 

It sounded like sweet music of 
The harps which angels play, 

2 13 



<< 



Gertrude" 



Or like the murmurings of some brook 

That, hastening to the sea, 
Through every rough and winding nook, 

Speaks in harmony. 
She looked as if no earthly care 

Upon her brow might rest, 
But saw the brightest side of life, 

And took things for the best; 
Though why should sorrow ever cast 

Its shadows dark among 
Those to whom all life is sweet, 

When the heart is young ? 
A question that it would be hard 

For one to answer free, 
As future comes not as we wish, 

'Tis hid in destiny: 
Although I hope that through her life 

The flowers ever bloom, 
Along the path that she may take, 

To drive away all gloom ; 
That down the long and winding way, 

The wild birds in the wood 
Will sing her coming loud and free, 

On to womanhood. 



H 



When Sweethearts Say Good 
Bye 

| SAW them just at evening, 

Ere the sun had left the sky : 
Down beside the garden fence, 

He came to say good-bye ; 
For off to war the call had come, 

It meant to live or die ; 
But hardest was the struggle 

When sweethearts say good-bye. 

They did not see me watching, 

I would not have it so, 
Although I let the old horse walk 

Apast the place quite slow. 
His arm around her slender waist, 

A tear in either eye ; 
I tell you life is gloomy 

When sweethearts say good-bye. 
15 



When Sweethearts Say Good-Bye 

Far down the long and shaded lane, 

Beyond the cattle farm, 
I saw them there as I looked back, 

The lovers, arm in arm ; 
Some pine-wood on a distant hill 

Gave forth a long-drawn sigh, 
As if it knew the meaning 

When sweethearts say good-bye. 

Then came the sound of bugles 

Upon the silent eve, 
It was the signal to depart, 

For him his love to leave. 
My heart sank deep within me, 

I felt that I could cry, 
To think of these sad partings 

When sweethearts say good-bye. 

This morn as I was reading 

The progress of the war, 
Of how our boys marched bravely on, 

Though falling by the score, 
In a corner quite secluded 

The death-list caught my eye ; 
It showed how many maidens now 

Had sweethearts in the sky. 
16 



When Sweethearts Say Good-Bye 

" Good-bye, my love, God spare you/' 

Were the last words that she said; 
But God seemed not to hear the call, 

Her lover now was dead ; 
And in the village graveyard, 

Where daisies grow so high, 
Is all that 's left to tell us 

Of a sweetheart's last good-bye. 

'Tis the saddest word that's spoken, 

By human tongue or pen, 
We never know when uttering it 

That we shall meet again. 
But sadder still when lad and lass, 

Their sweet affections tie, 
And then fate gambles with the love 

When sweethearts say good-bye. 



17 



"Regardin' Education " 

"yOU ken talk about yer trainm* school, 

And private schools, an' such, 
But, as fur as my opinion goes, 

They do n't amount to much ; 
Just a fancy lot of learnin' 

That in a careless way 
You 've crammed and jammed into your 
brain, 

And it ain't agoin' to stay ; 
You '11 have a case of swell-head 

Until you feel the size 
Of one of them 'ere planets 

That 's floatin' through the skies ; 
But it 's like a great big bubble 

When you stick it with a pin, 
To find the depth of substance, — 

It melts to air agin. 
18 



" Regardin' Education " 



Now, 't is true that education 

Is the basis of success, 
But there 's no educatin' 

When they think so much of dress; 
Where the fellers wear high collars, 

And have this football hair, 
That gives them the appeaeance 

Of some fancy circus bear. 

While the girls are always primpin\ 

And takin' so much pains 
To make 'emselves look pretty, 

Why, where 's your room for brains ? 
Not always is it beauty 

That hides the honest heart, 
Nor is it the appearance 

That determines you are smart. 
It takes some things substantial 

To keep you strong and spry ; 
Fur we 'd be funny beings 

If we just ate cake and pie. 

And so it is with learnin', 

And the things you 're going to learn, 
Must have a sort of nourishment 

So your livm' you can earn, 
19 



My Angel Sister 

COMEWHERE up in heaven, 
Far beyond the airy scene, 
Iyives my angel sister, 

Whom I have never seen; 
For ere life's morning dawned on me, 

By some three years or more, 
Her infant soul, a thing so frail, 

Had reached the other shore. 

As a little bud that promises 

To be a fragrant thing, 
But fades and dies before it blooms, 

Marred by some unknown sting, 
She withered ere the time had come, 

And when no help could save her, 
With sorrowed hearts which knew no balm, 

Back to her God they gave her. 

22 



My Angel Sister 



And oft on summer evenings, 

As I sit in solitude, 
And watch the sparkling heavens, 

In a somewhat dreamy mood, 
'Tis then that I can fancy 

A sweet face watching me, 
From the little stars that twinkle 

In the land of eternity. 

Just a little faded picture, 

Just a few small baby clothes, 
And a grave beneath the willow, 

Where the myrtle ever grows ; 
Are all that 's left as treasures, 

To freshen up the mind, 
As her journey was a short one, 

Leaving no footprints behind. 

No tower was erected 

In the brilliant fields of fame, 
No marble of remembrance, 

Which bears her infant name ; 
She sowed no seed along the way 

That, following, I might glean, 
And gain some sweet conception 

Of this one I 'd never seen. 
23 



My Angel Sister 

COMEWHERE up in heaven, 
Far beyond the airy scene, 
Lives my angel sister, 

Whom I have never seen; 
For ere life's morning dawned on me, 

By some three years or more, 
Her infant soul, a thing so frail, 

Had reached the other shore. 

As a little bud that promises 

To be a fragrant thing, 
But fades and dies before it blooms, 

Marred by some unknown sting, 
She withered ere the time had come, 

And when no help could save her, 
With sorrowed hearts which knew no balm, 

Back to her God they gave her. 

22 



My Angel Sister 



And oft on summer evenings, 

As I sit in solitude, 
And watch the sparkling heavens, 

In a somewhat dreamy mood, 
'Tis then that I can fancy 

A sweet face watching me, 
From the little stars that twinkle 

In the land of eternity. 

Just a little faded picture, 

Just a few small baby clothes, 
And a grave beneath the willow, 

Where the myrtle ever grows ; 
Are all that 's left as treasures, 

To freshen up the mind, 
As her journey was a short one, 

Leaving no footprints behind. 

No tower was erected 

In the brilliant fields of fame, 
No marble of remembrance, 

Which bears her infant name ; 
She sowed no seed along the way 

That, following, I might glean, 
And gain some sweet conception 

Of this one I 'd never seen. 
23 



My Angel Sister 



Although 'tis surely written 

In sacred books of fate, 
That I shall see my sister 

Beside the golden gate; 
When earth has lost its interest, 

When death has paid its price, 
With outstretched arms she '11 greet me 

In the realms of Paradise. 



24 



Contentment 

'T^HE fury of the wind and rain 

As it beats against the window pain, 
Soothes and reconciles my brain; 
For as I think of what might be, 
The dangers of a stormy sea, 
I feel my own security. 

To think of him who on the deep 
Blue ocean's ceaseless rock and leap 
Allows himself no peace of sleep ; 
But with a restless anxious eye 
Will sit and watch a threatening sky, 
And wait perhaps his turn to die. 

'Tis always best to realize 
Your thankfulness ; then compromise 
With passion's fast desiring eyes, 
To love your individual state 
Of life, and just create 
A patience that will live and wait. 

25 



Down by the Meadow Brook 

A IyADDIE met a lassie fair 

Down by the meadow brook, 
He asked her what she was doing there, 

Down by the meadow book ; 
She replied, "I'm going an errand to do." 
"I am idle," said he, "and might go too," 
She didn't object; I wouldn't, would you? 
Down by the meadow brook. 

So he helped her across on the stepping- 
stone, 
Down by the meadow brook ; 
And really she could not have ventured 
alone, 
Down by the meadow brook; 
But he being strong, and she quite light, 
Although he held her very tight, 
They reached the other side all right, 
Down by the meadow brook. 
26 



Down by the Meadow Brook 

Now, as they walked the narrow path, 

Down by the meadow brook ; 
Frightening the froggies into their bath, 

Down by the meadow brook ; 
Having gone nigh on to a mile, 
They came to where they crossed a stile, 
And she, being weary, rested awhile, 
Down by the meadow brook. 

Well, as such chances seldom occur, 

Down by the meadow brook ; 
That he might tell his love to her, 

Down by the meadow brook; 
So whispering verses in her ear, 
Which her girlish fancies loved to hear ; 
Why, he even called her his little dear, 

Down by the meadow brook. 

But all, alas ! for hiding near, 

Down by the meadow brook; 
Old Cupid stood with a high-poised spear 

Down by the meadow brook ; 
And when he asked her for a kiss, 
She slapped his cheek and said, "Take this," 
Quite unbecoming to any miss, 

Down by the meadow brook. 
27 



Down by the Meadow Brook 

He grew quite angry, and said, " Never 
mind/' 

Down by the meadow brook; 
" There are girls who will, and them I'll 
find," 

Down by the meadow brook; 
Now, she did n't know just what to say, 
For, having bid her a cold good-day, 
He hurriedly went on his way, 

Down by the meadow brook. 

So she finished her errand all alone, 

Down by the meadow brook ; 
And it was late when she went home, 

From down by the meadow brook ; 
But she was tired, and didn't care, 
Her little heart was in despair; 
She had lost a lover, and quite unfair, 

Down by the meadow brook. 



28 



Expressions 

\X7"HEN those we love are called away, 
Although we know that all must die, 
To God above we kneel and pray, 

Nor dare to ask the question why 
He fades the flower of the field, 

Or robs the lily of its bloom. 
For why should earth its beauty yield, 

And bury all within the tomb? 
Why should those poor ones suffer so, 

And starve outside of comfort's door ? 
Is this the way that some should go 

To make a place for coming more? 
No ; let each man, with movements free, 

Such tasks his gracious Master save, 
Draw out his own bright destiny, 

And hold the key which locks the grave ; 
Let every wish be realized, 

That it might please the inward soul, 
For naught should be a sacrifice, 

This life must find its hidden goal ; 
3 29 



Expressions 



And not a restless sea of greed, 

Of borrowed fame, and masks of pride, 
Controlled by one, who with a speed 

Whirls the spheres and rocks the tide ; 
A power ruling earth and sky, 

But this we can not comprehend ; 
For it would better be we try 

To mark the spot where space doth end. 

Man never knew, nor ever will, 

The secret of material birth; 
He comes and lives a life until 

Death changes him again to earth ; 
A mystery within itself 

Which tries to break the sacred seal, 
And for the jealous want of pelf, 

The treasure of the soul reveal; 
Thoughts like smoke by breezes kissed 

Iyeave the furnace of the mind 
To only fade away in mist, 

And nothing of a gain we find ; 
The rich, the poor, the high and low 

Must crumble as those gone before, 
'Tis better that they quickly go 

To leave a place for coming more. 



30 



Expressions 



The morning dew its freshness leaves, 
From folded buds the diamonds fall 

But noon is verging on to eve; 
A puff of wind, and that is all. 



31 



\ 



A Little Piece of Ribbon 

JUST a little piece of ribbon, 
Though faded much by age, 
Which I 've laid away for keeping 

Upon this pure white page ; 
For of all my many treasures 

There are none I value more 
Than this little faded ribbon, 

Which a love of mine once wore. 

Though it was once a brilliant blue 

As summer skies above, 
But when the parting came it, too, 

Faded as our love; 
And just for sweet remembrance, 

I am sure for nothing more, 
Have I placed it here for keeping 

In this ancient book of lore ; 
32 



A Little Piece of Ribbon 

That when the days are gloomy, 

When there 's nothing else to do, 
I take the volumes from the shelf, 

And slowly look them through; 
Oft finding just such treasures, 

So carefully laid away, 
That brings back recollections 

Of a past and happy day. 

Now, how well I can remember 

When she gave this to me; 
It seems but one short year ago, 

Though forty it must be, 
Since, in the little shaded lane 

At evening, all alone, 
I met her with a milking-pail 

Slowly ambling home. 

Singing as she went her way, 

The day's last, sweet refrain, 
Which far out o'er the pasture land, 

Echoed back again ; 
Just as the twilight's fading hues 

Glimmered on the cloud, 
That night as she came down the way, 

Might fold it in her shroud. 
33 



A Little Piece of Ribbon 

I 'd been working in the field ; 

But when I heard a note 
Of melody come to my ear 

From some girlish throat ; 
I tossed the old fork on the pile, 

And let the balance lie, 
And, running out into the road, 

Just as she passed by, — 

That I might help her with the pail 

Up to the farmyard gate, 
Where often evenings we would stand 

When the hour was late, 
And talk of such good times in store, 

And such good times we 'd had ; 
Ah ! then old life was honey-sweet, 

With nothing wrong or bad. 

Well, whenwe 'd reached the parting place 

I, just in boyish fun, 
Told her I must have some pay 

For the work I 'd done ; 
So taking from her golden curls 

This little ribbon blue, 
In such an innocent way she said, 

" 'Tis all I have for you." 
34 



A Little Piece of Ribbon 

I was satisfied with it, 

So bidding her good-night, 
I started down the dusty road 

Whistling all my might. 
Nor knew I then the weight of care, 

Nor sorrow's aching pain: 
The day was in its youthfulness, 

Which never dawns again. 

But time has changed the scene since then, 

And she 's an angel now, 
Yes, faded as the lilies fade, 

By causes, God knows how. 
The last time that I saw her 

Was the day she bade good-bye 
To all the village neighborhood, 

With tears in either eye. 

For they were going to the West — 

Yes, better luck to try — 
While she, a child of Providence, 

Was going West to die; 
A rough, rude cross on the mountain side, 

Where the breeze blows wildly free, 
Is the grave of her, who, once in smiles, 

Gave this gift to me. 
35 



A Little Piece of Ribbon 

But where it has been living, 

The goodness only knows, 
I resurrected it, one day, 

Among a lot of clothes, 
Which I found up in the garret, 

And from out the molded pile, 
It seemed to look up with a face 

Of bygone days, and smile. 

I drew it from its lowly state, 

With miser's greed for gold, 
While memory, like a little bud, 

Its tender leaves unfold, 
And placed it here within this book 

Of some old mythic lore ; 
For of my many treasures, 

There are none I value more. 

So, back upon the page of white 

I '11 lay this ribbon blue, 
God bless and ever guide the step 

Of her who once owned you ! 
Although perhaps as I sit here, 

With fancy's musing eyes, 
She is looking down on me 

From sweet Paradise. 
36 



A Little Piece of Ribbon 

What 's that ! the old clock on the stair, 

And midnight from its chime, 
Why, where have I been living 

All this evening time? 
Well, I 'd better stop such dreaming, 

And sleep's comfort find, 
With her bright smiles ever beaming 

Down upon my mind. 



37 



m&tm*^-^m^^^^t^~^^^*B^^mmm*m^mm^^~^^^mmmmmmr , — ^tms^mmmmmmamm^m^^^ ■■« 



The Goat McKroger Bought 

nTHE other day while down the strate, 

Upon me life, who should I mate 
But Mike McKroger, and, says he, 
" You 're just the man I want to see, 
For I had started out to find 
A friend who would be just so kind 
To help me lead a goat out home, 
As I did not care to go alone. 

"And," says Mike, says he, " you see 

To-morrow is me wife's birthday, 

So for me darlin's own swate sake 

I thought I 'd have a small-sized wake, 

And there present her with the goat 

That I 've just bot from Timmy Smoke." 

Says he, "The goat is big and strong, 

And I would like you just along 

In case he would n't care to go 

The way I take him, do n't you know." 



38 



The Goat McKroger Bought 

So I consented for Mike's sake 

The little trip to undertake; 

And down the narrow street we bot' 

Started for to get the goat, 

Which then was tied up in a shed, 

While on the late editions fed. 

It took just one whole hour alone, 

Convincing him to change his home, 

And I believe we 'd been there yet, 

A-workin' till we puffed and sweat, 

If I had not conceived a plan, 

Which worked smooth as an electric fan; 

Says I to Mike, " Get me some rags, 

And mix them up with paper bags, 

Then I '11 start on ahead of you, 

And bait the goat to follow too." 

So out the door me way I made 
To start upon the long parade ; 
Then after me the goat walked near, 
While poor old Mike brought up the rear; 
But ere we 'd gone a half a square 
I scented trouble in the air, 
Although the goat was going fine, 
And pulled and tugged upon the line, 



39 



^- T- .— — . 



The Goat McKroger Bought 

Which Mike held tightly in his fist, 
And wrapped securely round his wrist ; 
But Billy, tired of being teased, 
And I could coax him with no ease, 
So when he started on a run, 
I knew the time was then for fun ; 
And now with Mike I soon fell back, 
While he let out the little slack 
He had been holdin' all the while, 
Which gave the brute a chance to smile. 

" Be quick," says Mike, " take hold me coat, 

Or else we'll lose the Billy goat!" 

While swiftly chasing down the strate, 

As if a trottin' off a hate, 

The three of us made such a sight 

As ever graced the brood daylight ; 

And through the alleys, cross the yards, 

Then out upon the boulevards, 

Around the corners, up and down, 

We chased the goat all over town — 

Until one store he couldn't pass; 
For seeing there a looking-glass ; 
Widt his keen and angered eyes 
Another goat he recognized. 

40 



The Goat McGregor Bought 

No sooner had the thing he spied, 
Then he started at it straight broadside, 
While Mike and I held to the rope, 
The other end fast to the goat. 
One terrible crash, and nothing more, 
I found meself upon the floor, 
The goat was gone, but in his place 
I met a copper face to face, 
And 'fore I 'd time to tell the tale, 
I found meself locked in the jail, 
Me eye was black, me coat was tore, 
And you can bet me back was sore. 

To cut the story short, I '11 say, 
Me wife she bailed me out next day, 
While, for poor Mike, he 's down in bed, 
At first they t'ought the mon was dead 
When from the pile they fished him out ; 
But in a while he walked about. 
And now, the goat, the last of all, 
I have n't much to say at all, 
Although I 've firm belief to bet 
That Billy goat is running yet ; 
I only think of the fun I got 
Out of the goat McKroger bought. 



41 



Childhood's Tenderness 

y T^HEY were playing together, a boy and 
a girl, 

In the sand with a hoe and a spade; 
She stood to one side, and only looked on 

At the wonderful things which he made. 

Such churches and towers, and houses and 
walls, 
With little streets running between ; 

'Twas the vent of a boyish fancy un- 
earthed, 

Which reality has never yet seen. 

She finds a defect in some misshaped pile, 
And, taking the sharp-cornered hoe, 

She digs in the sand with earnest intent 
Beneath which is buried his toe. 
42 



Childhood's Tenderness 



At first he just smiled, but when blood 
appeared, 
The smile soon changed to a frown ; 
While over those cheeks, half hidden in 
curls, 
The tears could be seen dripping down. 

Of course she had done it, and felt bad, 
indeed ; 

For taking his foot in her lap, 
With the ribbon off of her sunbonnet blue, 

She carefully started to wrap. 

And she wrapped that poor foot around and 
around, 
Till you could n't have seen a toe, 
For, with all her might, she pressed it s 
tight, 
That the blood was checked in its flow. 

Caressing his sorrow with the words 

That, " If 'oo don't ty any more, 
I '11 div 'oo some pennies dat I is dot 

sabed, 
And we doe to de tandy-tore." 



43 



Childhood's Tenderness 



'T was a few minutes later at the candy- 
store, 

Where the pennies were being spent ; 
For a bandaged toe didn't hurt any more, 

As its owner was now content. 

How often our feelings are hurt in this life 
By things which are said ; and not so 

But a little while will soon reconcile 
The pain of a bandaged toe. 



44 



a 



A Girl Whom I Once Knew" 



\A7HILE I sit before the fireplace, 

And watch the merry blaze 
Which seems to draw my memory 

Back to boyhood days ; 
A picture as if living 

Comes slowly into view, 
And I find the long-lost features 

Of a girl whom I once knew. 

The same bright smiling features 

As in the days ago; 
Her cheeks are just as rosy 

With nature's healthful glow ; 
And those bright eyes seem to sparkle 

Iyike sunlight on the dew, 
As when she was my sweetheart ; 

This girl whom I once knew. 
4 45 



"A Girl Whom I Once Knew" 

Now, as the firelight broadens, 
Driving back the chill of night, 

My conscience leaves its body- 
To take a backward flight. 

Till I find myself a school-boy, 
Doing what most school-boys do ; 

A-talking and a-laughing 

With some girl whom they once knew. 

She was my little sister, then, 

For fun, you know, that 's all ; 
While she called me her brother, 

So brave, and strong, and tall. 
But, when the teacher questioned, 

" Who I passed the paper to?" 
I always gave the right name 

Of this girl whom I once knew. 

She helped me with my lessons 

When they often were unlearned, 
And I sometimes wore the laurels 

Which really were not earned. 
Though demerits came quite frequent, 

And not a very few, 
When I was caught conversing 

With the girl whom I once knew. 
46 



i w 



A Girl Whom I Once Knew" 



We oft would play together 

At recess and at noon, 
And sing our made-up verses 

To some old love-song tune ; 
Then we 'd gather fragrant flowers 

As the birds about us flew, 
Along the country roadside, 

With this girl whom I once knew. 

Though when the snow had fallen, 

When the ice had clogged the mill, 
When the ponds were all hard frozen, 

There was coasting on the hill; 
I would take my old brown bob-sled 

That nicely would hold two, 
And away we 'd go together 

With this girl whom I once knew. 

Now, at last, the fire is fading, 

Yes, her image has grown dim, 
Though I try hard to recall it, 

But my dream is broken in. 
Still 1 11 lift the cup of comfort, 

Full of pleasures, good and true, 
And drink to the sweet memory 

Of a girl whom I once knew. 
47 



When dis Coon's a-feelin' 
Good 

T^E chicken done roost on de highest 
^*^ rail, 

When dis coon's a-feelin' good ; 
And de possum he do n't show his tail 

When dis coon 's a-feelin good ; 
The melons down in the old co'n-fiel' 
Are tied with a rope so de nigger can't 

steal, 
An' I do n't know whare to get my meal 

When dis coon 's a-feelin' good. 

I went to see Miss Liza Brown, 
When dis coon was a-feelin' good; 

For I'mde warmest man in town, 
When dis coon 's a-feelin' good ; 

But when I gets up by de do' 

I find she 's got another beau, 

An' you never catch-a me der no mo' 
When dis coon 's a-feelin' good. 
48 



When dis Coon 's a-feelin' Good 

I once was mixed in a little game, 
When dis coon was a-feelin' good ; 

Cause I had de money, and wasn't to 
blame, 
When dis coon was a-feelin' good. 

But a little fat nigger from Tennessee 

Held four aces aginst my three, 

And he took de jack-pot away from me, 
When dis coon was a-feelin' good. 

Chorus. 

Den bow down, nigger, bow down ; 

Keep you' stiff upper lip, 
A-plant you' feet right in de ground, 

And do n't you dare to slip ; 
Dar's no rest for de nigger, 

Just keep on sawin' wood, 
For de world done grows no bigger 

When dis coon 's a-feelin' good. 



49 



" Back with an Old-Time 
Sweetheart" 

T DREAMT last night while the rain was 
beating 
A wild tattoo on the window pane, 
That I was back with an old-time sweet- 
heart, 
Back with one whom I loved again. 

JL,oved her, yes, with a stronger passion 
Than the violets love the shade ; 

More than wild birds love the springtime, 
My old heart was love decayed. 

And to see her in the halo 

Of a dreamland, and to hear 
That sweet voice of hers like music 

Of the angels soft and clear, — 
50 



"Back with an Old-time Sweetheart" 

It was more than worded feeling; 

For could I have held my theme, 
I 'd have drifted on forever 

Through the vista of a dream. 

How the fleeting transformations 
Of a lifetime bright and plain, 

Danced and whirled through halls of fancy- 
When with that old love again. 

Then I saw her in her illness, 

I again was by her side, 
Just the same as when she whispered, 

" Good-bye, love," smiled, and died. 

But some day I '11 find her waiting 
Down along the flowered shore, 

With a bright smile as she welcomes 
Her old lover back once more. 

Back again to an old-time sweetheart, 
Back again with the one I love ; 

Not on wings of a wasted night-dream, 
But to a dreamland far above. 



5i 



The Song She Sang 

""P WAS a sweet old song she sang to me, 

A song that made me feel 
An inward happiness that I 

Could not with words reveal; 
For with an earnest heart and soul, 

And with the sweet refrain, 
She painted scenes of fairyland 

Across my youthful brain, 
While far into bright dreamland skies 

Above all earthly things, 
My thoughts went as if fabled doves 

Upon their golden wings : 
I saw naught but two rosy lips 

Move swift in harmony ; 
I heard naught but the soft, sweet notes 

Of a song she sang to me. 



52 



The Song She Sang 



The Water-mill — that was the name — 

Well I remember still, 
The story told, the lesson taught, 

By the turning of a mill; 
For so depicted that I saw 

The whirling waters dash 
Against those old soaked oaken beams, 

Then in the wide pond splash. 
I seemed to hear the wild birds' song, 

As merrily they fly, 
I felt the cool, sweet-scented breeze 

Of fields that lay near by ; 
A lad, barefooted, clothes quite torn, 

Was fishing in the race, 
There was a wealth of happiness 

Upon that sunburned face, 
As baiting hook with greatest care, 

He casts the line far out, 
And watches with an anxious eye 

The cork which bobs about ; 
Though soon the quiet spell is broke, 

No longer does he pause, 
But from the cool, clear water there 

The shining fish he draws; 



53 



The Song She Sang 



A bluejay in a tree near by- 
Breaks forth a frightened scream, 

To see a monster of such form 
Heaved from the flowing stream : 

The mill-wheel steady turning on, 
Repeating the lesson fast, 

That it will never, never grind 
With water that has past. 

A rustic picture, true to life, 

So suited to my choice, 
Upon the canvas of the mind 

Drawn by a young girl's voice, 
In colors bright as rainbow hues, 

Which naught can fade away ; 
But hold their brightness ever — till 

The golden hair turns gray; 
And though time swings the pendulum 

Of life's sad destiny ; 
I '11 ne'er forget the fair young maid, 

And the song she sang to me. 



54 



The Orchard 

F\OWN in the orchard where you find 

The apples of a various kind, 
And where the clover sweet for bees 
Gives out its fragrance to the breeze, 
While round about the song-birds fly, 
And fleecy cloudlets sail the sky; 
A spot that really is sublime 
On heated days of summer time, 
To spend in idle reveries 
Beneath those shady apple-trees; 
Where care or sorrow dare not tread, 
Reclined upon a grassy bed, 
One whiles away the pleasant hours 
Among the birds, the bees, and flowers. 

That inward soul of happiness, 
Which simple words can not express, 

55 



L. of C. 



The Orchard 



Now breaks forth as a bursting bloom, 
And life forgets its tattered gloom; 
Our thoughts spread wide their airy wings, 
And soar above all earthly things, 
Till from a high-up perch we scan 
What now presents a fairyland, 
Things change their aspect to the view, 
Each minute has its problem new ; 
Thus wandering on in dreamy mood, 
We revel in sweet solitude, 

Until from tree-tops overhead, 

High up among the apples red, 

Whirling, twirling from branch to branch, 

Performing such a merry dance, 

An oriole in bright arra}^, 

Burbles forth his roundelay, 

A sentiment in those few notes, 

Of purest type which no man quotes ; 

Nor dare to mock the happy bird, 

L,est he should make a sad discord. 

These are the songs of Nature's child, 

She taught them to the songster wild, 

The harmony of her young soul, 

Interpreted by an oriole. 



56 



The Orchard 



One feels a nearness to his God 

When thus reclined upon the sod, 

Surrounded by the pleasantries 

Of singing birds and humming bees, 

And flowers waving to and fro, 

Kissed by the winds which come and go ; 

While such sweet fruit is easy found 

Upon the tree or on the ground, 

To please that nervous sense of taste, 

Replacing all the muscles waste, 

That he may longer live to know 

What gifts kind Nature doth bestow. 

The orchard is a place of rest 
To while away our idleness; 
It is a rustic paradise, 
Secluded from all prying eyes, 
Where, rocked in cradles of content, 
The hours pass and time is spent, 
And ere we gain a consciousness, 
The sun has lowered in the west, 
As twilight lulls the gentle breeze, 
And night creeps through the orchard 
trees. 



57 



DEC 



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